I am from the Bookcase,
from the Bookcase and the Stuffed Puppy.
I am from the white rocks on the ground,
and the dried dirt beneath those rocks.
I am from The Pomegranate Tree
whose Red fruit is both sweet and sour.
I am from the Aole Vera plant and Trampoline.
From Cordon and Beltran.
I am from tall men and little women,
from the know it alls, and the overwhelmers.
I am from my mothers Homemade food,
from her Choco flan, and Carne Asada Fries.
From the religious conversion of my great grandfather,
and from the crash where my grandfather was lost.
The beautiful sky my parents painted on my bedroom’s ceiling.
I am from the black sheep of the family,
Judged and shamed by others for being different.